It was eight thirty at night, and loud music was blaring through the empty library. Tracy smirked and twirled the pink lollipop that was hanging slightly in her open mouth. Before her were seven cans of paint, a tiny unicorn cup and an unopened bottle of whiskey. She had been allowed access to the library after hours because of her status in the college. She was a highly respected member of the book club, a library volunteer and often kept unruly behaviour in the building at a minimum.
Tracy slowly pulled away the plastic wrap that was hugging the neck of her precious liqueur bottle and twisted the cap off. Leaning over, she stayed eye level in front of the cup and measured the amount she poured. It was all in ritual, never would she allow herself to follow any other behaviour with her Whiskey. Never. With an elegant air, Tracy brushed aside a tress of her teal hair and took a slow sip of the beverage. It spilled into her mouth with a tingling, burning sensation.
Tracy immediately relaxed and looked at the cans in front of her with another smirk. She laid down her sparkling cup and began to drum her fingers on her lap.
What's my next move? She thought to herself. She closed her eyes and dragged in another sip of whiskey, rolling it over her tongue, savoring it.
Tracy discovered the joy of alcohol when she turned thirteen. By that age she was tall and clever enough to break into her father's "Adult" cabinet near the ceiling of her kitchen. Her Mother had died years ago; she had gone drinking and driving, so the end of that story tells itself. Tracy went for the whiskey as soon as she could. It's what killed her mother. It's what she wanted. Because...Tracy always wanted to be close to her Mother.
The cans before her held seven different colour paints; White, Pink, Lime Green, Powder Blue, Pale Yellow, Lavender, and Orange. They were there for the soul purpose of revenge. Just nights before one of the campus metal bands had torn down and ripped apart her environmentalist group's large billboard advertisement on animal cruelty. The group was furious, and as their leader, she was ready to take action.
The members of the band were known meat lovers. Tracy expected this feud to last until the graduating year they all shared.
They don't stand a chance. She thought, We will destroy them.
She was going to paint a bigger, better advertisement. Whatever paint was left over would be mixed together and thrown on the band in the middle of the show. They'd be publicly humiliated, their show would be ruined. Everybody knew the bassist was sensitive. He would probably rush off stage in a huff.
Tracy slid on the glasses she wore only for art and reading, and tied back her short, dyed hair into a tiny ponytail. She gingerly wrapped an apron over her rainbow unicorn shirt and light jeans. She took a small taste of whiskey and closed her eyes, trying to picture herself as a little girl sitting in a sunlit meadow filled with faeries and unicorns. Of course, that image was soon replaced with her mother's head twisted around 180º and gasping at her.
She wanted so hard to be able to grasp at her childhood, to feel innocent and free of grotesque memories and thoughts. Tracy just wanted to turn back the clock handles of follow time backwards. But that was impossible, so she carefully gathered her thoughts and straightened them out, almost like what you would do with a messy pile of papers.
Finally, she was ready to go. The large canvas on the floor before her was beckoning-
But first, she needed another glass of whiskey. She slowly poured another sparkling cupful at eye level, sipped it, and faced her work.
It would be nothing spectacular. Just a quick painting depicting the act of cruelty to animals. She painted a blue boy with pink hair taking a bite from a yellow burger. Toppings of orange, green and yellow fell into a colourful puddle that mixed with the same, multi-coloured blood of a purple, slaughtered cow. She chose friendly colours over reds and harsh tones, because, well, Tracy was a colour-loving person, against any form of violence.
After twenty minutes of working, two more small cups of whiskey, and three more lollipops, Tracy was starting to feel a little buzz, almost like an electrical hum in the back of her head. As always with her work, she found herself staring at the wet paint from her brush strokes admiringly. Wet paint could be so beautiful...
As the last rainbow of cow's blood was joined into the swirling circle of the multi-coloured blood pool, Tracy pulled a new lollipop from her jeans pocket and popped it in her mouth. The taste of whiskey and lollipops was strong on her tongue, and she was humming with delight. Tracy pulled out her butterfly patterned cell phone and sent her friends a text message, telling them to put up the new sign. It was large, but the arched doors to the campus library were even bigger. With the proper help the sign could be easily transported outside.
After another pull at her cup of whiskey Tracy poured the last dregs of paint into a bucket and mixed them well. A lovely, disgusting brown colour was formed. She sipped the last of her glittering unicorn cup and took a final swig from her bottle. Lifting the heavy bucket of paint, she stumbled out of the library. The rest of the group would share the remaining whiskey between them, when they came for the sign.
Tonight would be their revenge. Tonight the paint in the bucket will fall over those stupid, stupid musicians, representative of animal blood. Blood of the animals they insulted.
It would be revenge as sweet as a pixie's kiss.
The stage set-up on the College campus was really simple. There were metal beams for support at the top of the rig, with a ladder that led all the way up there for mechanics and technical work. They were just asking for a prank like Tracy's. The teal-haired girl miraculously made it up the ladder with the bucket hanging off her arm. It shouldn't have been possible, she was beyond drunk. Everything was spinning with rainbows and sparkles all around her, but she could still make it up the damned ladder.
When she got on the beams, she practically crawled across them. She wasn't balancing very well, and she'd be moving even if she were sitting still. As soon as she was above the band, right in the middle of them, Tracy let out a giggling snort. Giving her cherry lollipop a few twirls, she blew a loose-flying lock of teal bangs out of her eyes and scanned the scene below her with green eyes.
Giggling madly, she splashed the paint over each member of the band and jumped to her feet.
Whiskey tends to bring out the idiocy in the best of people.
As soon as she was on her feet Tracy slipped backwards, lollipop flying into the air, and bashed her head off a steel beam. Her unconscious body fell to the stage below, blood flying from her skull and raining down after her. The red lollipop fell down just moments later, shattering on the concrete stage. The campus was completely silent, completely hushed. The painted band members rushed to Tracy, checking for some far stretch of hope, of life. But she was broken, bleeding.
Her body was contorted in a savage fashion. That was probably something one of those band members would tell say if asked how the corpse appeared that night. But really, if anybody asked what was remembered of Tracy's lifeless form, they would have been answered "It smelled as if she had kissers of whiskey and lollipops."